


Fairy Tale

by StarryKnight94



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack, Dark Victor Nikiforov, F/M, Fantasy Fulfillment, Guns, Illustrated, M/M, Motorcycles, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Protective Otabek Altin, Seems Like an AU but Not Really?, Spies & Secret Agents, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done, Yuri Plisetsky Is Protective of Katsuki Yuuri, Yuri Plisetsky Is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryKnight94/pseuds/StarryKnight94
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky.Figure skating gold medalist by day.Crime fighting super sleuth by night.Soldier always.Dreams tell volumes about a person and Yuri’s certainly have a lot to say.*Illustration included by Youkaii Arts





	Fairy Tale

_Typical_ , Yuri thought as he came to pause upon the grimy, crime-infested streets of Ottawa, Canada. He could smell the signature cloud of Axe body spray and pure, unadulterated douchebaggery from the church front, the pristine white awning and crystal clear windows hiding the scum within.

He gave himself a once over, hands shoved into his leopard print trench coat, thick black boots with golden studs peeking out underneath. Yakov had told him his getup would attract too much attention. That he had to be ‘inconspicuous’.

Well, he’d told Yakov to fuck right off.

He pulled his shades down to give himself a knowing smirk. Now was as good a time as any for an introduction.

Yuri Plisetsky. A.K.A Ice Tiger. A.K.A Figure Skating Gold Medalist by day, Secret Agent Extraordinaire by night.

Well, afternoon.

Yuri strolled into the vacant church lobby, dimly lit under the midday sun. He stepped up to the podium just before the nave, not paying any mind to the towering gold crosses lining the walls on either side. He wasn’t here for prayer.

A familiar smile grinned out at him from behind the podium. He glowered back.  
  
“Where’s JJ?”

The sickeningly sweet smile slithered further over Isabella Yang’s lips.

“JJ is preoccupied at the moment,” she replied, her grin unwavering as she tapped perfectly manicured nails upon the countertop.

“JJ’s letting his bitch speak for him now?”

“What do you want?” she asked, unruffled.

“Cut the bullshit,” Yuri leaned in. “I know JJ is using this church as a front for drug trafficking.” Blaspheming asshole! Not that Yuri believed in that crap. But he did hate JJ and this was as good excuse as any to kindle his burning contempt.

Isabella tapped away at the marble counter, nails the color of blood. “Always so rude,” she cooed. “I don’t know what you mean. JJ isn’t here.”

Yuri’s mouth curled into a snarl. Then what did he have an entire squad of Yakov’s men on standby for? If Lilia had given him bad information...

“He’s busy practicing for the season...” Isabella pouted, fingers still dancing on the counter. “I told him not to work so hard. After all, if the Grand Prix gold medalist has time to go around threatening innocent churches, he probably won’t have much competition.” She giggled.

Anger brewed up and bubbled to Yuri’s surface and he slammed his fist down on the countertop. “Say that again you st—” He glanced down to where her phone sat against the counter, its screen glowing white. A time displayed there. 00:00:55. About the length of their conversation. A phone call.

Realization dawned on him and he hit the ground just as the world exploded in his ears.

“Aw!” JJ’s stupid voice moaned like a child with shitty aim in a darts game, the gun waving recklessly in his grip. “We almost had him, babe.”

Isabella pouted, disappointed in a murder foiled. She retrieved her phone from the counter top.

“Turn the screen facedown next time?” JJ recommended as he advanced on Yuri, who scrambled to find his footing and his gun at the same time. He reached for his own phone to send the final signal, but JJ kicked it from his hands. He cursed as JJ’s shadow descended on him, that usual smug grin on his lips, sunglasses high over his brow. Fucking despicable.

“Nice of you to visit me, kitten,” he winked. “Did you want an autograph?”

Yuri growled audibly. “Die.”

“Rude.” JJ frowned. “I don’t want to kill you. I’m a good Christian man—”

“You’re a drug dealer and a dipshit bronze medalist!”

JJ’s arrogant grin dropped and Yuri immediately leapt to his feet, charging at him, his pistol pointed squarely at his dick.

JJ knocked the gun from his hand and wrestled him by the collar, that dumbass grin breaking over his face again.

“Yuri, Yuri, Yuri” he chanted and Yuri considered legally changing his name if he made it out of this alive. “So impatient. This is why it took me suffering a mental break for you to win.”

“WHAT?!”

“I hope you enjoyed it,” JJ said, tightening the hold so that the material of Yuri’s trench coat closed over his windpipe. He struggled desperately to breathe.“You’ll never beat me again.”

Black licked at the edges of his vision.

“Because I'm the best.”

“Fuck you,” Yuri rasped, teeth grit. This was his crime fighting secret agent fantasy dammit!

“Oh,” JJ laughed and cold metal pressed against Yuri's temple. “And you'll be dead.”

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut and thunder pressed on his ears. The pressure on his neck and head suddenly fell away and he waited. Was he dead? Was this it? 

He opened his eyes to see JJ being dragged off, Isabella right behind him. Yakov’s men swarmed the church, kicking down doors and taking names.

Dizzied and still trying to catch his breath, Yuri picked his phone from the ground and wandered outside, hands massaging over his neck. The brisk wind hit him and he felt a headache coming on. He briefly wondered if JJ’s stash was up for dibs now. What was Yakov going to do with all those drugs anyway?

Speak of the devil...

He lifted his buzzing phone and pressed the ‘TALK’ button. Yakov’s gruff, rumbling tenor blared through the speaker.

‘YURI!” he growled. “Why did you go in uncovered?!”

“I didn’t need your help!” Yuri blared back. “The Ice Tiger works alone!”

“What did I tell you about referring to yourself in the third person?!” Yakov heaved through the speaker, breathing labored.

“Yakov, your asthma,” Yuri heard in the background.

“If it hadn’t been for a random tip off, you’d be dead right now!” Yakov sputtered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Just send the fucking money. I don’t like this co-op shit anyway,” he hissed into the receiver. “I WORK BY MYSELF!” With that, he jammed his thumb down on the ‘END CALL’ button.

Why did people still think they could tell him, Ice Tiger of Russia, Gold Medalist by day, Super Sleuth by night what the fuck to do? He bowed to no one.

“Your boots are untied.”

Yuri blinked at the man before him with dark piercing eyes, lips set into a permanent scowl. He wore a leather jacket over muscled arms, helmet at his side.

“Oh.” Yuri blinked, immediately bending down to tie the deep purple laces snug.

Otabek Atlin. Hero of Kazakhstan. Grand Prix Finalist by day, DJ Bounty Hunter by night. Yuri heard he took out an entire Brava clan with just his knife shoes alone. And the crazy thing was… he actually bought it.

“Looked like you were having some trouble back there,” Otabek nodded toward the church where Yakov’s men still rushed about. “Saw you through the window.”

“You tipped Yakov off?” Yuri’s eyes widened. “I mean— TCH. I wasn’t having any trouble. I can handle JJ.”

“I figured.” Otabek shrugged. “But sometimes soldiers need back up too, you know?”

Yuri tossed his hair back, eyes wandering in the opposite direction. Yuri Plisetsky. Ice Tiger Gold Medalist Super Sleuth Crime Fighting Secret Agent _Soldier_. “Yeah.”

Otabek stared at him a while longer and he felt his face growing warm.

“Gonna DJ this party later,” he said, nonchalant as ever. “You should come.”

“Cool.” Yuri nodded, trying to appear just as nonchalant. “I go to parties.” He instantly cringed inside. What the fuck was that? ‘I go to parties’?!

The truth was Yuri rarely went to parties. Yakov and Lilia were too busy barking orders into his ear about figure skating and crime fighting. And there was no one he ever wanted to go with anyway…

“Cool.” A rare grin spread over Otabek’s lips and Yuri’s heart jumped. “I’ll text you the place.”

Yuri nodded, mouth going dry. “Sounds good.”

Otabek was back on his bike within seconds and before Yuri knew it, he was off down the road. Yuri blinked after him in disbelief.. The Hero of Kazakhstan had just invited him to a party... What was he going to wear? Did he have time to go shopping?!

He checked his phone. It was still barely noon. If he could just shower and get the horrendous stink of JJ off of him, he could hit Hot Topic...

His phone buzzed again and he nearly dropped it. He cursed when he saw the name across the screen. Lilia. Yakov probably guessed he wouldn’t pick up again for him... Good guess... He clicked ‘TALK’.

“What?”

“Yuri Plisetsky, that is not how you answer a phone.”

He held his breath. Authority figure though she was, his respect for Lilia typically ran deeper than it did for the rest of the populace. “Yes?” he tried to sound more apathetic and less homicidal.

“We have another job for you.”

He cursed. “Today?!”

“Yuri,” she scolded and he bit his tongue.

“Nikiforov is at it again,” she said and Yuri groaned.

“Don’t tell me I have to deal with JJ and Victor in one day,” he grunted.

Victor Nikiforov a.k.a The Golden Caper a.k.a Self Obsessed Dipshit (as Yuri liked to call him) used to be part of Yakov and Lilia’s team in the old days. And he’d been one of the best. A figure skating, crime fighting super sleuth to be proud of. Yuri had expected to work side by side with him one day, creating an even stronger team, learning from the best. Instead, he’d gone mad and run off to Japan with some food obsessed porker.

From there, Victor had devolved even further into self interest, abandoning his calling as a figure skating crime fighter to establish his own evil empire, his egoist crimes ranging from extortion to theft. He was the Russian Prodigy no longer. As far as Yuri was concerned, Victor Nikiforov was as good as dead.

“What did he do now?” Yuri asked.

“Well you know how he loves to spoil Makkachin,” Lilia went on and Yuri could hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “The world’s most expensive luxury collar has gone missing from the Queen of England’s chambers.”

Yuri groaned. He hated dog people....

“It’s fitted with diamonds and sapphires that range from $300,000 to $5.6 million,” she said. “Each.”

“Damn!” Yuri cursed. “All that for a dog?!”

“You know how he is,” Lilia said. “Anyway, he’s keeping it in his fortress in Japan. You’ll have to break in and get it back.”

“Send Mila or Georgi,” Yuri groaned. “I got some place to be.”

“You can do that after you’ve fulfilled your sworn duty as a figure skating super sleuth crime fighter, Yuri Plisetsky.”

“How am I even supposed to get to Japan from Canada in the next 12 hours?!”

“It’s your fantasy,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

As it was, he did.

He’d skydived onto the property— like a boss. He kind of wished Otabek had been there to see it.

He now crept about the gardens of Victor’s giant estate, hiding at the base of a quaint little bridge, cherry blossom petals raining all around him. The main building itself towered up ahead like a sacred temple, the massive eaves of the pagoda dipped in gold. Black mountains painted the distance at every turn. Now that he'd breached the gardens, he only needed to worry about getting into the actual facility. If he could distract Victor’s henchman with a well placed grenade, he could sneak in. From there, he only had to find his way to Makkachin and, as rambunctious as Victor’s beloved pooch was, that couldn’t be too hard… His only objective, besides obtaining the stolen collar, was to make it in and out of the estate unseen. Which he was doing a spectacular job of thus far.

“Yurio?”

Yuri jumped, nearly hitting his head on the underside of the bridge and stumbling into the little creek. He spun around to find a familiar face staring at him with wide, expressive brown eyes, blue yakata robes whipping in the wind.

“Katsudon?!”

Katsuki Yuuri was Japan’s Ace. Yuri had only beaten him by a hair at the last Grand Prix Final. A surprisingly formidable foe. For a crybaby.

“You might as well let me pass now and save yourself the trouble, pig,” he sneered into Yuuri’s worried features. The older man’s fingers clutched around a brown bag. Carryout maybe? He’d never understand why Victor had abandoned Yakov’s team for this...

“Y— You can’t go in there,” Yuuri glanced toward the fortress ahead. “He’ll kill you.”

“Tch.” Yuri smirked. “He’ll have to catch me first.”

Yuuri shook his head, eyes solemn. “You don’t understand. Victor’s not—”

“YUUUUUURIIIII!” Dulcet tones rang from the structure ahead and Yuuri gasped.

“Come on!” he whispered, pulling Yuri underneath the bridge and traveling across the creek’s bank toward a heavily bushed area beside a rose alcove. He let out a sigh as they settled among the brush, eyes still wary.

“Wait.” Yuri’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you hiding from him?”

“Well...” Yuuri clutched his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them, brow creased. “Because Victor isn’t...” He let out a deep breath. “He’s been getting more and more unpredictable lately. It started with the sugar packets. You know. At restaurants.” He pulled his legs in tighter. “Then a designer bag here and there. Now he’s got embezzlers at every fortune 500 company and he’s stealing from the queen.” His fingers drew over Yuri’s shoulders and grasped him harshly. “Yurio, Victor’s gone full kleptomaniac!”

“Okay, okay!” Yuri pulled himself loose, avoiding Yuuri’s panicked gaze. “I could have told you your boyfriend was fucking psycho a year ago.”

“He won’t listen to me...” Yuuri fidgeted without Yuri’s shoulders to grasp onto. “And now he wants me to help him do these things.” His fists trembled. “I didn’t know what to do so... I ran.”

Yuri watched him, shoulders hunched, on the verge of crying. Pathetic.

He crossed his arms and turned away. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. You should watch who you go around giving engagement rings to…” He shrugged. “I always knew it wouldn’t last.”

Somehow it didn’t feel as good to say as he’d always hoped. Goddammit. This was his fantasy and he should be able to derive as much spiteful satisfaction as he wanted! He turned back to Yuuri who still crouched forward, brown eyes burdened, but not defeated.

“Right.” Yuuri stood to his feet. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. I’ll try Minami’s—”

“H— Hey wait!” Yuri cried before he could catch himself. “Don’t be stupid! You probably don’t even have a gun.”

Yuuri turned back to him, eyes uncertain. Yuri gave a deep sigh.

“You can come with me back to Russia,” he grumbled. “Just don’t do anything to slow me down okay, pig?”

A wide smile spread over Yuuri’s lips, eyes brightening. “Thanks, Yurio.”

He averted his gaze. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t need your stupid gratitude.” He waved him toward the house. “Just keep a look out while I go in.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “Go in?”

Duh. “What do you think? I came to visit?” He started for the manor. “I'm here for the collar Victor stole.”

Yuuri blinked once. Then twice. Then his eyes went wide. “Oh!” He raised the brown bag up and stared at it incredulously as if it had materialized out of the blue. “One step ahead of you, I guess.”

Yuri froze and started back toward him, squinting. “No way!”

Yuuri nodded, a grin on his lips as he pulled the collar from its paper confines. It glistened in the afternoon sun, thousands of tiny diamonds laced together to form the band with sapphire dress.

“Holy shit.” Yuri gawked at it. “All that for a dog.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Victor loves lavish displays of affection.” His lips curled under. “But I couldn’t in good conscience let him get away with it...”

A loud feral sound rose up from behind and they snapped backwards to see Makkachin bounding toward them with incredible speed, tongue flailing, eyes red.

“Looks like he wants his shit back.” Yuri gulped.

Yuuri tackled him by the wrist. “Come on! Victor keeps a few motorbikes in that shed!” He pointed to a grey brick structure at the very rear of the garden. “We can escape through a weak spot in the gate and into the mountains!”

They cornered the shed and charged in without a second thought. Yuri beamed the flashlight on his phone down on chains attaching the motorbikes to a rail as Yuuri wrestled with them. Makkachin’s growling pierced through the brick.

“Hurry up, pig!” Yuri snapped.

“I’m hurrying!”

“Your dog’s gonna eat us!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

Yuuri finally cleared one of the bikes of its chains and started to climb on.

“Hold up,” Yuri shook his head. “I’m driving the bike! This is MY fantasy!”

Yuuri groaned, blinking up at him. “Yurio...”

“Sorry, who’s saving who’s ass from his crazy fiancee during work hours?!”

They shot off with Yuri at the head of the bike, breaking a hole in the brick shed. He grinned as the entire thing crumbled to pieces and collapsed behind them. This was so badass. If he’d had the time, he would have exploded Victor’s entire fortress and drove off into the sunset with his fiancee in tow. Who would be the star of Russia then? He laughed to himself. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He did have his grenades on him…

“Yurio!”

Makkachin barked in his ear and he snapped out of his daze to find the dog nipping at the rear wheel.

Yuri sped up, following Yuuri’s instructions toward the very rear gates where the boards were the weakest. He glanced in the rear view to see Makkachin growling at him with demon eyes. “When did Makkachin get so fucked up?!”

“I don’t know what Victor’s been feeding him...” Yuuri leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Are you scared?”

Yuri’s features twisted into a scowl. “Scared?!” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah fucking right. Just focus on getting us out of here, Katsudon.”

They climbed up further and further into the black mountains behind the estate, putting much desired space between them and the monstrous Makkachin. When they made it to the mouth of a cave, Yuri thought they’d officially lost him.

“I don’t see him...” Yuuri said, getting off the bike to survey the area. Yuri joined him in overlooking the cliff, nothing but black rock and ash below. He could smell sulfur.

“Good,” Yuri nodded. “Now how the hell are we supposed to get out of here?”

“There they are!” They turned to see a group of men clamoring up the mountains toward them.

“Uh oh…” Yuuri stepped away.

“Come on!” Yuri tackled him by the arm and raced into the cavern, feet desperately clapping against the stone as shadow fell over them. A bullet shot past and they sprinted faster. Someone cried out and Yuri turned back to see Japan's Ace stumbling toward the ground.

“Katsudon!”

“I think they nicked me,” he forced through gritted teeth. “Keep going!”

“Right…” Yuri took a few steps forward, but the ground beneath him gave out, straight into a pile of silver grey ash.

“Yurio!”

Yuri struggled to stand, to pull himself from the thick, pale substance. “It’s fine. It’s just sand or something.”

“Yurio,” Yuuri whispered, a crease on his brow. “That’s quicksand. Stop struggling!”

Yuri froze, realizing that the more he wrestled with the substance, the more it seemed to cling to him. “Shit.”

“It’s okay! I’ll get you out.” Yuuri crawled forward. “Toss me the bag first! It’s weighing you down.”

Yuri squirmed out of the backpack, trying not to move too much, and chucked his artillery bag toward the base of the rut he’d fallen into. Yuuri swooped down to claim it.

“I just need to find a branch or something...”

“Hurry the fuck up!” Yuri yelled, trying not to let the panic seep into his voice.

“Stay calm.” Yuuri told him like it was the easiest fucking thing. “Try to get out of the jacket too. Is anything in your pockets?”

Again, Yuri squirmed, watching woefully as his beautiful tiger print trench coat and the guns within submerged completely into the sand. “That was expensive shit!”

He was angry now. Snapping around at Yuuri, he bared his teeth. “Where’s the fucking branch?!”

“Branch?” Yuuri frowned. “Oh right. I don’t think there are any trees here.” He laughed to himself. “I mean, why would there be? This is an inactive volcano.”

Yuri seethed. “Then why the fuck were you looking in the first place?!” Clueless idiot! “There’s a collapsable baton in my bag! You just press the button on the grip and it expands!”

“Okay.” Yuuri unzipped the bag, pulling out its contents and searching through. He tossed a grenade up and down.

“Careful, pig!”

“Sorry.” Yuuri went on, prying inside the bag, tossing guns and grenades and knives and everything but the goddamn baton to the wayside— when he finally zoned in on a short, black rod.

Yuri’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!” he said, trying to avoid the muck at his chin. “Just press the button and get me the fuck out of here!”

“Right.” Yuuri stood, walking toward the pit as he fidgeted with the baton. When he reached the edge, his fingers fumbled and the stick dropped unceremoniously into the ashen sand. The hungry maw drank it up immediately.

“Oops…”

Yuri trembled, venomous green glaring poison laced daggers into Yuuri’s unassuming gaze, a cat ready to pounce on a guileless innocent. Then a strange thing happened. The guileless brown narrowed little by little and a reddish glint flickered there, bleeding out to consume the innocence whole. Yuri’s own eyes went wide, the world flipping a perfect 180.

“Fuck.”

Yuuri’s lips curled up like ivy. “You always underestimate me, Yurio.”

Yuri’s throat went dry. “K— Katsudon—”

“That’s Eros to you.” Yuuri said, undoing the robes of his yukata and letting the blue material slip from his shoulders. Black and silver took its place, diaphanous, form fitting and just as well kept as Yuri had ever seen it. His short program costume. He removed his glasses and pushed his black tresses away from his features.

“… are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Afraid not,” Yuuri smirked, his tone more sultry vixen than anxiety ridden ingenue. “Honestly, you should have known better.” He tsked him. “I stole Victor Nikiforov right out from under Russia’s nose. Do you think I’d care about a stupid collar?”

Yuri writhed with anger, fists clenching.

“Careful Yurio,” Yuuri warned. “You’ll only sink deeper if you keep doing that and I haven’t decided if I want to kill you like this.”

"Like this?"

“Oh Yuuri!” A familiar voice echoed across the cavern and Yuri just wanted to die and be spared this tragedy. He watched, helpless, as the silver haired figure in an Armani suit embraced Yuuri from behind, head crooked into his shoulder. “You’re perfect,” he purred in his ear before beaming down at the quaking blond. “SURPRISE YURIO! Bet that surprised you, didn’t it?”

“I hate you,” Yuri growled through clenched teeth.

Victor pouted. “WOW. So rude even in the face of death.”

“I’m stressed, Victor!” Yuuri moaned like a whiny bitch. “I haven’t decided how I want to kill him! This is fine. But there’s also the piranha pool and the lava pit. And what about the sharks?” He pulled Victor’s arms around him, brow knitted. “There are so many choices!"

“Don’t worry, love.” Victor whispered into his ear. “I have complete confidence in whichever method you choose.”

“You always support me,” Yuuri smiled, the wicked glint returning to his eyes. “I want him lowered into the lava pit. On a trapeze rope.”

“What the fuck?!” Yuri blared.

“Oh Yuuri!” Victor cooed. “That’s so deliciously evil!” He caught him by the chin. “Who taught you to be so bad?”

“I’ll give you one guess.” They leaned into one another making nauseous googly eyes and Yuri screamed.

“For the love of fuck! Stop!” he roared. “I don’t want to see this shit as I die!” He watched as Victor’s men surrounded the pit, lowering a net and filling the gorge with some solution that seemed to dissipate the sand. “L— Look! You don’t have to kill me! You can keep the stupid collar!”

Victor gave a rueful shake of his head. “I’m afraid you’ve been a thorn in my side for quite some time, kitten.”

Yuri bared his teeth.

“You were fine as a figure skating competitor, but I’m not going to let you keep thwarting my pursuit of beautiful, expensive things.”

“YOU’RE RICH, VICTOR!” Yuri spat. “WHY DON’T YOU JUST PAY FOR THEM?!”

Victor tilted his head, brow furrowed. “That wouldn’t be very surprising, now would it?”

“Look I haven’t even been here a day and I already know I never want to come back,” Yuri said. “Makkachin can have the collar.”

“Makkachin?” Victor blinked and he and Yuuri exchanged glances. The pig laughed.

“You thought the collar was for Makkachin?”

“I... It’s not?” Yuri’s eyes narrowed as Victor whipped the expensive diamond band from the bag.

“Something this beautiful could only be befitting of my beautiful Yuuri.”

Yuri watched in choked terror as he slipped the collar around Yuuri’s neck, hand wrapped taut around the leash. 

His features twisted in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is your fantasy.”

Yuri clamped up, speechless.

"Puberty must be hard for you, Yurio."

 

 

Yuri slumped forward as Victor’s men escorted him further along the volcano, his brow heavy with sweat. Victor and Yuuri laughed joyfully behind him, kissing and cuddling and tugging playfully at the collar. Oh, how he hated them.

“To the lava pit!” Yuuri commanded and the men carried him down the way. Victor and Yuuri followed, smooching one another intermittently. Yuri didn’t believe in a higher power, but he prayed to whatever Japanese volcano gods that might have existed to please save him from this hell.

They entered a separate cavern and he could already feel the heat before the orange and red hues blinded him. Pools of lava bubbled all about the hilly terrain. In the center was the largest of them all, a gaping red maw. As promised, a tightrope hovered above the pool, swaying in the distance.

“Who even has one of these?!” Yuri barked at his captors as he was untied and forced upon the tightrope. He tried to jump down onto the edge of the cliff, but the men lifted knives and rods, effectively spearing him back onto the rope. He tripped and clung desperately to the thin string like a koala in a tree, not daring to stare down at the waiting pool of flame.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Victor laughed from the sidelines. “You have the best ideas, Yuuri!”

A little tune started up and Yuri immediately realized it as ‘Hollaback Girl’ by Gwen Stefani. He hated the song almost as much as Victor loved it. Predictably, Victor let it ring for several moments before picking it up.

“Oh Yakov!” he exclaimed. “What a pleasure! Yeah... Yeah.... Good! Yeah...”

Yuri wanted to burst.

  
“Of course!” Victor finally said. “He’s right here! Do you want to Facetime him?” He pressed a button and then extended the phone out to Yuri. “He wants to talk to you.”

Yuri scowled into the phone and found Yakov’s wrinkled features doing the same. “Hey.”

“Yuri!”

“Get me the fuck out of here, Yakov!” he cried, legs wobbling as he straddled the rope. “You didn’t warn me about this!”

“How did you get into a volcano?!” Yakov blared. “I told you to get the collar and leave!”

“Oh, that’s really fucking simple!” Yuri shot back. “Katsudon tricked me up here with his baby piglet act and now I’m trapped so you better send someone to get me!”

Yakov grumbled. “Mila and Georgi are both busy with Giacometti! He’s desecrating public property again.”

“Oh, Chris!” Victor smiled fondly. “He never changes!”

“Vitya!” Yakov yelled and Victor turned the phone back to face himself.

“Hm?”

“Don’t do this,” Yakov pleaded. “If you kill him, I’ll lose both my star skaters. Are you really going to murder him over a dog collar?”

Victor’s expression went solemn. “It’s a Yuuri collar. And sorry Yakov.” He smiled apologetically. “This time I can’t do as you say.”

Yakov went red. “You never fucking—”

Victor ended the call with a satisfied sigh. “It’s always good talking to him...”

“Let me down!”

“Victor,” Yuuri frowned, arms folded. “I’m getting bored. He’s not moving.”

Victor nodded. “Of course.” He started toward the ropes. “Anything for you, love.” He shook the rope and Yuri cried out, snaking several feet down the length of the wire.

“Fuck!”

“Is that better, moya lyubov?”

“Perfect.”

Yuri scrambled to keep himself from flipping upside down. He didn’t have this kind of training. He wasn’t a fucking circus act! He was a world renowned secret agent figure skating prodigy! They would pay for reducing him to this in his own fucking fantasy!

Lava bubbled up from the pit and he flinched. Just the minuscule movement was enough to flip him upside down, his balance breaking. He lost hold of the wire and cascaded downward. “No!” he cried, grasping at hot air as he toppled toward a sea of red.

“Yuri.”

Something hit him out of the blue and he found himself flying across the pit, his eyes wide. He folded his arms over the familiar black leather and glanced up to see Otabek’s calm features. One hand grasped a rope overhead, the other curved around his waist as they sailed over the pit. Yuri’s heart rate sped up. Badass.

They landed on the end of the pit opposite Victor, Yuuri and their minions. The pig had already started his temper tantrum.

“My homicide is ruined!” Yuuri cried, hyperventilating, and Victor’s eyes narrowed across the chasm.

“Get them!”

The men raced around the perimeter of the pit toward Otabek, guns, knives and spears raised.

“Come on,” Otabek pulled him toward his motorcycle.

Yuri’s eyes widened. “Wow! How’d that get here?!”

“It just follows me wherever I go,” Otabek said with a smoldering gaze. “Like this jacket and my sunglasses.”

Yuri had never been more impressed.

They climbed onto the motorbike and secured their helmets before jetting off through the cavern, avoiding lava pits as they sped over hard, black rock. Victor’s men blocked their path, now assuming a range of ninja poses and Otabek plowed through each of them. When Makkachin appeared, baring his ferocious teeth, Otabek reared back and took off over the nearest rock. They soared through the air, over Makkachin’s head and through the exit of the cave.

“I don’t hurt animals,” Otabek said, like a kickass— but tender-hearted— god.

“Same!” Even stupid dogs, he guessed. He wondered if Otabek liked cats...

“Not so fast.” They looked up to see Victor standing before them. Yuuri stood at his side eyes burning, fists clenched.

“You have thwarted our attempts to brutally murder you for the last time!” Victor said before pulling Yuuri into his arms. “You know how much Yuuri hates to lose!”

Otabek revved the motor.

“Get out the way, old man.” Yuri glared.

“Are you really going to leave without the collar?” Yuuri asked with a smirk, pressing his fingers against the jewels on his neck. “After all this trouble?”

“Didn’t plan on it.” The bike suddenly sped between the two and they cried out, running for cover. Yuri took hold of the diamond studded leash and wrestled Yuuri onto the saddle. They jetted off down the mountain, with Victor screaming after them.

“Yuuri!” he cried.

“Victor!” Yuuri wailed.

“Yuuri!”

“I really can’t take much more of this,” Yuri groaned.

“This is cheating, Yurio!” Yuuri accused, eyes darting to Otabek. “He came in at the tail end! He’s not even a main character!”

Yuri yanked the leash, silencing him. “He’s a main character if I say he is!”

“Yuuri!”

They turned around to see a full camouflage jeep rumbling down the mountain after them, Victor at the wheel.

“Now!” He blared and a team of ninjas began throwing shurikens at Otabek’s wheels.

“Faster Otabek!” Yuri pressed.

Otabek stepped on the gas and they were practically free falling down the descent, hair whipping in the wind. Except for Otabek, whose perfect dark strands, sunglasses and leather jacket remained in place because he was just that cool.

“We’re almost clear,” Otabek said. Yuri turned around to gauge the distance and noticed a shuriken sailing straight for Otabek’s back. His eyes went wide.

“NOOOO!” he cried in slow motion, tightening his grip on Yuuri’s collar and jerking him forward. The shuriken caught against the diamonds, shattering the leash to pieces and raining jewels in a beautiful spray.

“NO!” Yuuri bellowed as the diamonds and sapphires spilled from his neck to join the rest. The bike slowed and, with Yuri’s hold on him gone, he threw himself from it, rolling against the charred ground. The jeep stopped instantly, and Victor rushed to his side.

Yuri groaned, watching as the cloud of diamonds took to the wind, falling off of the mountain side and dispersing in every direction. “Yakov’s gonna fucking kill me,” he grumbled. “How am I supposed to get the queen back her stupid collar now?”

“Who cares?” Otabek shrugged, removing his helmet and staring off into the distance with purpose. “The physical ego, the active consciousness in man, should uplift its body-identified self into unity with the soul, its true nature. It should not allow itself to remain mired in the lowly delusive strata of the senses and material entanglement.”

“Huh.” Yuri nodded slowly. He doubted Yakov would accept that, but it sounded good coming from Otabek anyway.

“Paramahansa Yogananda.”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuri corrected.

Otabek turned to him. “Thanks for saving me back there. You had my back.”

He smirked. “That’s what a soldier's for, right?”

"Hell yeah." Otabek nodded at him, a faint smile on his lips. “Come on.” He revved the bike. “We can still make this party.”

And the motorcycle shot off into the setting sun, the opening riffs to ‘Welcome to the Madness’ playing in the background.

Yuri’s eyes popped open.

“Wow.” He blinked from his place on the rink bench, the noise of blades against ice and Yakov’s yelling in the background. Georgi took the scolding quietly, eyes down. Yuuri and Victor slunk to the side, laughing quietly with each stolen glance, whispering in eachother’s ears. JJ’s stupid face stared down on him from the latest ISU advertisement, that lame as fuck ‘JJ Style’ gesture taking up far too much poster space. Mila skated past and paused, leaning over the partition to wrinkle her nose down at him.

“Is that a boner?” she asked and he immediately reeled upward, throwing his jacket over his legs.

“Fuck off, hag!”

“Yeah, whatever.” She waved him off with a grin. “Your phone is blinking.”

He picked it up to see Otabek’s name beside the message icon.

‘What up?’ the text beside it read.

A smile curled over his lips, the sound from the rink blurring out again as he began to type.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed and please follow my friend
> 
>  
> 
> <https://that-creep-youkaii.tumblr.com>
> 
>  
> 
> on tumblr for more YOI art!


End file.
